Same Name, Same Face, Another Life
by The Mominator
Summary: The title should give you a clue as to what this is about. It’s A/U and B/A friendship and a hint at B/A ship. Check it out if you are so inclined. Hope you enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The inspiration for this fic comes from watching hours and hours, years and years of the Twilight Zone.**

**A/N: Thanks to Kim (chlark4) for her extra pair of eyes, much appreciated.**

**Same Name, Same Face, Another Life**

**Chapter One**

The frantic phone call from Eames to Ross was very early, "_Captain, its Eames, Bobby's in the hospital, he's been poisoned."_

He rubs his eyes as he focuses on the clock, _One thirty in the_ _morning._ "Eames, what in the hell are you doing with Goren at this hour of the morning?"

"_What? We….we were at a Yankee game with some friends…."_

"Detective, I'm sorry….what you do on your own time is none of my business. What happened?"

"_We went out for a late dinner and around midnight he felt ill."_

Ross turns on the lamp as he sits up, "What hospital?"

**St. John's Hospital**

Ross arrives through the ER entrance and finds Alex pacing in the waiting room, "Eames," he calls to her.

"Captain, thank you for coming," she doesn't wait for him to ask. "All I know is that he has been poisoned. One of the nurses informed me that from his symptoms, the poison is Carbamazepine."

"How could he….?"

"It was in his dinner. It had to be, someone put it there." Ross rubs his forehead, "Someone?"

"Yes," she places her hands on her hips. "I know who you think it was and you're probably right. What's scary is that she must have been following us all night, maybe following him for days." She shudders, "Gives me the willies." Alex exhales as she sits down on one of the many empty couches in the waiting room. Ross follows her lead and takes the seat next to her, she continues. "He had commented that a piece of his steak tasted slightly bitter. He sent it back and was given a new dinner."

They look up when they hear someone enter the room, "Miss, Mrs. ah? Are you his wife?" The tall gray haired man asks shyly.

"No," she stands. "I'm his partner."

"Partner?" the doctor frowns, "You're his partner?" _You don't look like a man. _

Alex blushes slightly from the doctors' uncomfortable manner, "No I'm not his 'partner' I'm his…."

Ross interjects, "They are, we are cops."

The doctor rubs his tired eyes, "Yes of course, I'm sorry it's been a long day, week." He holds out his hand, "I'm Doctor Owens."

"I'm Detective Eames and this is Captain Ross."

Th doctor nods as he shakes hands with them, "We have begun the administration of oral activated charcoal to prevent further absorption of the poison."

"Can I…." she touches Ross's arm. "Can we see him?"

"Well….there is one more thing….he's in a coma due to the loss of oxygen. His brain function is normal however we won't know the lasting affects until he awakens. I think it best you contact his family?"

"If I can find his brother I will," she takes a step closer, "Now," she says sternly. "Can I see him?"

"Yes of course," he checks his watch. "We need about half an hour to get him settled in a room, upstairs. I'm sorry for this."

"Thank you Doctor."

"I suppose I should call…." She resumes her seat on the couch, "Call who? I can't think of anyone to call, except some of his friends. I've met quite a few but…."

"Eames," he lightly taps her arm. "No need to worry about that now."

Alex slaps her thighs, "Sir, we need to get a guard. If it is Nicole and she finds out that he survived, she'll be back."

"Yes I agree," he stands. "I need to make a few calls. I'll be right back." Ross removes his cell phone from his jacket pocket, flipping it open as he walks out of the room and down the hall.

Alex remains in the waiting room. She picks up a magazine, flips though the pages and after the fifth square card falls, she closes it up, "The hell with this," she says as she tosses it on the table. She stands and then begins to pace. _Try to be calm and think Alex, try and remember if anything looked out of the ordinary last night. Have we lost our touch not able to sense when danger is_ _lurking__?_

Ross returns, "Everything is set, the officers should be here within the hour."

A nurse enters the waiting room, Alex recognizes her as the one who informed her about the poison. "You can go up now, he's in room 718."

**Room 718 **

An oxygen mask is in place and his vitals are being monitored. He is laying still as the noise of the machines fill the room. They stand motionless at the door. "They say that comatose people can be aware of their surroundings," Ross says

"Excuse me," a nurse says.

"Sorry," Alex says as she steps further into the room.

"That is true, Sir," she points to Ross. "It's best if you talk to him and let him know that you're here." She begins her task of checking his IV and the monitoring devices.

Alex shrugs her shoulders, "I hope so." She walks slowly and cautiously across the room, Ross is a step behind. "I feel so helpless," Alex states sadly, "Any chance that he'll wake up soon?" Alex asks as she makes eye contact with the petite red-haired nurse.

The nurse completes her task of checking his IV. "It's possible," she pulls the blanket over his arm concealing the IV site, "The problem is that we don't know when he'll wake up."

"You mean if he wakes up." Alex states firmly.

"Yes, I'm sorry Ma'am." She walks across the room toward the door, "Take all the time you want." She exits the room.

"I suppose I should call his mother."

"Have you ever met her?" Ross asks with his head down, keeping his focus on the man in the bed.

"No," she shakes her head, "Never I suppose. He didn't think it necessary."

The door opens and they turn toward the sound, "Captain Ross."

"Yes," Ross answers then takes a step forward.

"Sir, I'm Officer Trainor I've been assigned to guard Detective Goren."

Ross whispers to Eames, "Wow he got here in thirty minutes." He walks toward the door assuming his authoritative demeanor, "No one is allowed in unless they show you ID," he points at the young officer, "Understand?"

"Yes Sir," he closes the door and assumes his position of standing directly in front.

Ross returns to Alex's side as he checks his watch, "Eames….Alex you should go home and get some rest."

"I…." she looks up at her C.O. "I suppose."

"Do you need a ride?"

"Yes I left my car on the street near the restaurant."

Ross turns to leave, Alex remains by his bedside. "Are you coming?"

"Yes Sir I'll be there in a minute." Ross's sweet smile goes unnoticed by her. He opens the door and she takes a quick glance as the door closes behind him. She leans down lightly caressing his face, "Bobby, I'll be back in a few hours, ok. I won't leave you alone for long." She reaches up and kisses his forehead.

**The Next Morning**

She half expected him to be awake when she returned that morning. He is as she left him hours ago. As she enters the room, a nurse is at his side. She asks, "Has he opened his eyes at all?"

"No he's been very quiet," she says as she injects a vial of clear liquid into the injection site. She finishes her duties, then lightly taps Alex on the arm. "His vitals are very strong." The nurse leaves and she finds herself alone in a room with nothing but the sound of machines blinking and beeping_. Damn you Nicole__,__ I swear if I see you I'll shoot first and ask questions_ _later. Maybe it wasn't her at all maybe it got into the food_ _accidentally. No….then more people would be sick. It's her_ _alright._ "Come on Bobby wake up, we have work to do. We have to find the devil's daughter." She remembers the first time they called her that, both very accustom to death but meeting her was an eye opening experience for them. Taking a life was so easy for her, too easy.

She sits for a moment then immediately stands and begins to pace. "It's a nice day outside today, a little chilly for July but the sun is very bright." She crosses her arms and looks out the window. _Maybe I should try and find __Frank. Where__ do I start__?__ Wait_, she suddenly remembers, Bobby's cell phone. _I'll bet there is a phone_ _number in there for him._ She searches through the phone numbers and does indeed find one for Frank, "I found it Bobby." She allows the phone to ring ten times, she hangs up. "I'll try again later." She places his phone on the stand next to the bed. "You know when we left the game the Yankees were winning, believe it or not I heard this morning that they gave up three runs in the ninth and lost can you believe that?" She shakes her head in disgust.

She sits once again and finds herself tapping her fingers in time with the machines beat. "Did you ever play in the school band?" she places her arms on the bed railing resting her chin on her arm. "I tried once, I wanted to join because this really cute guy played the trumpet," she begins to laugh. "Problem was I didn't own a band instrument and certainly couldn't play one. The big jerk never noticed me anyway." She sits back, "Wow I haven't thought….did you date a lot in high school? I….well my Dad wouldn't let me date until I was sixteen and a car date? My God he did everything to the kid except take his fingerprints. But I guess that's how Dad's are." She slouches in the chair, "I wonder sometimes what kind of Mom I'd be….looks like I'll never know." She pats his hand, "Do you ever think about that? I don't mean being a Mom," she laughs aloud. "I'll bet you do all the time. You know in this day and age we still have time, don't you think?"

She closes her eyes, "This is definitely weird Bobby me doing all the talking," opening her eyes she straightens up. "Come on Bobby wake up, talk to me." She pauses, "Bobby please," she pleads. "Wake up, come on wake up."

His eyes flutter open. "You slept through the alarm, that's unusual," a female voice says.

He looks up and sees a familiar face from many years ago, "Cathy?" He shakes his head, "Cathy," he eyes her from head to toe. "You haven't changed…."

"No I haven't, I just got out of the shower."

"Huh," he sits up in the bed. _I had_ _a one-night stand with my old girlfriend. _He watches her as she brushes her wet hair_. Wait; if I had a one-night stand I would hope that I would remember that_. He follows her with his eyes as she walks across the room, stopping at the closet door; she opens it and stands motionless looking at the contents inside_. I remember going to a Yankee game with Eames and…._He finds himself staring at her, she seems oblivious. _Damn she looks fantastic. _She flashes a sweet smile at him as she tosses her clothes on the bed. He immediately returns the smile. _This is really freakin' weird. I'm not hung over, so I didn't get drunk, what the hell is going on? _

"Bobby," she calls his name, he looks up. "Are you going to stay in bed all day?"

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to those who have taken the time to send a comment, it is deeply appreciated.**

**Chapter Two**

"Bobby," she calls to him again. "Hon are you alright?" She places her knee on the foot of the bed as she leans forward.

_Hon,_ he smiles_, that sounds nice_, "Yeah," he looks up and catches her eye. "I'm alright."

She stands erect then picks up the blouse that she tossed on the bed, draping it over her body, she faces the mirror, "You were groaning in your sleep last night, I nudged you a few times but you just grunted and rolled over."

"I just, ah dreams, some very weird dreams. If I kept you up I'm sorry."

She turns away from her reflection, "You are sweet," she tosses the blouse on the bed. "But after twenty years of marriage," she walks up to the closet, that she left open; he follows her with his eyes. She is oblivious to the look of shock on his face, _Twenty years of marriage. _"It's not the first time for either of us and it won't be the last." She stands with her hands on her hips staring at the rack of clothes before her. He rubs his face with his hands and feels an object on his finger; he stares at the wedding ring. His eyes widen twice their normal size.

She removes another blouse from the closet and when she turns to face the mirror again she notices his pale pallor, "Bobby are you sure you're alright?" She walks to his side of the bed, leaning down she touches his forehead, "No fever, but you look pale."

"I feel fine Cathy," he says sharply.

"Alright if you say so," she straightens up. "You don't have to bite my head off."

He holds up his hand, "I'm sorry, I just feel really," he lowers his voice. "Weird, this is so weird."

"Maybe it's a reaction to the medication that you are taking."

He nods his head as he looks around the strange room, "That's possible," he mutters. He spies a tall dresser opposite the one that she is using. Atop of the dresser he notices a familiar item, _my photo of Frank and me as kids,_ "What time are you meeting Roger?" She asks breaking his train of thought.

_Roger, I don't know anyone named Roger. _He doesn't answer the question because he can't. "Are you playing golf this morning?"

He runs his fingers through his hair, _Golf, I doubt it_. "I think I'll cancel for today."

She removes her bathrobe, he shyly looks away, she does not notice. She changes into a pair of jeans and decides to wear the first blouse she removed from the closet. After brushing her hair, she places a bracelet on each wrist. He watches as she checks her look in the mirror, _she really hasn't changed, you have some hell of an imagination, Goren._

She turns toward the door, "Oh I almost forgot," she snaps her fingers, "Nicole is bringing her new boyfriend over for dinner."

_Nicole, who the hell is Nicole?_

She points her finger at him as she nears the bed, "Be nice."

"Ah...okay," he nods his head. "I will."

She frowns, "Maybe…."she places her hand on his forehead again. "Do you want me to call Sam?"

"Sam?" _Sam Ryan is my doctor_, he rubs is forehead; _at least I know_ _that name_. "No," he shakes his head as he pulls off the blanket, "No I'm fine, really."

"Ok, before you go out you need to eat breakfast; you can't take that medication on an empty stomach."

He watches her as she leaves the room; he falls back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "Maybe I'm delusional and I'm really somewhere else?" he sits up. "That would explain a lot. But," he stands and walks toward the tall dresser. He removes the photo of himself and Frank. "Everything is too vivid." He replaces it gently to the exact spot it stood before. "If I'm dreaming, the detail is extraordinary. Damnit!" He scans the contents of the room, "Two closets, I'll bet this one is mine," he opens it and immediately recognizes the shirts and jackets. One article of clothing is missing, "No uniform," he looks to the nightstand next to his side of the bed, "No police scanner." He picks up his wallet that is lying on top of the dresser; he opens it, "No gold shield," he closes it returning it where it was, "Why?" The sudden urge to go to the bathroom overcomes him. He walks out the door that she left open. He stands in the doorway, looking to the right and then the left.

"Hey Dad." A young woman says as she passes him. _Dad? _She stops then turns to face him, "Dad are you alright?"

He nods his head as he smiles, _looks like Cathy when she was_ _young_. "Yes I'm fine," _is that Nicole? Maybe not_, "Morning," he says cheerfully. As he turns his attention away from the young woman, he notices an assortment of photos on the walls of the hall. _All those years of looking at other families photos_, he smirks. He walks slowly down the hall looking at each photo; on the right side, the children get older on the left side they get younger. In each photo appear five people, Cathy, three children and him. The young girl he just met and two boys, who are younger than she is. _Three kids, maybe they're hers. But, why am I in the photo_? He hears a door open and the sound of a toilet flushing. He immediately turns to face her.

"Remember when Mom would make us do that every year?" He nods his head as convincingly as possible. "I have a feeling she's going to try and get us to do it again, since Steven is graduating from High School this year."

"It won't be so bad," he manages to say.

"Yeah I suppose your right." She reaches up to kiss his bearded face. "Are you gonna grow a beard again?"

"No I hadn't planned on it."

"Good," the aroma of bacon suddenly feels the air. "Bacon," she says. "The boys are up, come on Dad before they eat it all." She is down the hall before he can answer her.

_Well at least I know where the bathroom is_, he steps into the room, purposely avoiding his reflection. He relives himself, _Gees one bathroom for five people._ He stands next to the sink and notices only three toothbrushes. He steps back; _this is the kids' bathroom, terrific_.

"Hey Pops," he turns abruptly, when he hears the sound of a strange voice, "Is something wrong with your bathroom?"

"No," he says sharply then brushes past the young man and once again finds himself in the strange bedroom. He closes the door continuing to hold the doorknob. He faces forward and presses his body against the door. "Maybe I'm not who I think I am. No, wait...she did call me Bobby, so I have the same name." Staring straight ahead into the room, he can see their bathroom, "Bathroom off of the bedroom, nice." He enters and purposely keeps his head down and away from the vanity mirror, he turns on the tap. After splashing water on his face, he stands erect and catches a glimpse at his reflection, "I have the same name and the same face, but whose life is this?"

He finds a razor and proceeds to shave, "I remember going to work yesterday….the Harper case." He raises his hand shaking it back and forth, the shaving cream on the razor drips into the sink. "Yes after ten days we finally solved it, then Eames and I went to a Yankee game then dinner," he lowers his head. "Then…." He rinses the razor off with water, "Nothing." He wipes his face with a hand towel then lowers the seat on the toilet bowl, he sits down. "I don't understand this at all." He begins to rock slowly back and forth. "What am I suppose to do?"

He hears her call his name, "Bobby," he listens for her voice again, silence. He answers, "Yes."

"Come on down and get your breakfast before your sons eat it."

"I'm," he clears his throat, "I'm....I'll be right there," he exclaims. He slaps his thighs then stands, "I am not looking forward to this at all."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

His pace is slow and steady as he walks across the room, _a wife and three kids, maybe they're not mine, _he scratches his head_. No wait twenty years; she said we've been married for twenty years. Shit twenty years that means that we were married in 19….88. 1988 I was still in the army; maybe I never joined the army. What if tomorrow is our wedding anniversary, I will be so screwed or her birthday…..no wait her birthday was in….April, this is July if it still is July._

Two more steps and he is on the first floor of the house. He turns to the right and before him is a newly decorated room, he can smell the fresh paint. The furniture appears to be new, no signs of wear and tear. He steps into the living room, he smiles. _This is gorgeous._ He chuckles to himself. _I never realized I had the mind of a decorator._ The saddle colored couch has a classy yet comfortable look to it that one could easily sink their weary body into. Across from the couch is a matching loveseat. Glass-topped end tables are positioned on each side of the couch. Directly in front of the couch is a matching coffee table. In the corner of the room is a baby grand piano, he smiles. _I had forgotten that_ _she played the piano_. The paintings on the walls are of landscapes and stills, he examines one. In the corner is the artists' name, Cathy. _She continued with her art that's marvelous_. Over the piano is a portrait of the three children, the year in the corner next to her name is 2006. As he turns away from the painting he chuckles softly, the dining room is in shambles, _I guess that room is next_. He can hear the chatter of three voices, two female and one male. Off to the left of the living room is a threshold that he assumes leads to the kitchen.

He closes his eyes as he finds it hard to take another step, "Mom can you please ask him?"

"No Steven," he hears a chair being pulled across the floor. "Come on he'll listen to you."

"No he won't." Bobby has to smile at that remark. "You took the car without permission and you are being punished, no car for a week and that week includes this weekend."

"Ah come on. Gees, it's just a car."

"Just a car," two voices say in unison. "You know as well as I that your father has plans to be buried with that car," laughter fills the room, "Him, me and the car." He covers his mouth to silence his laugh. _I wonder what car they're talking about?_

"Alright, alright I'll bum a ride from Gary or Chuck." Bobby hears a hand slap the table, "What good is having a driver's license if you can't drive."

"Enough Steven, that's enough."

"Ok, ok."

"Joseph what time do you have to be at work today?" she pauses. "I'm heading for the store in about an hour; I'll drop you off if you want."

"Not till ten-thirty, Mom. I don't see why I have to work, we have money."

"No Joseph," Bobby hears glasses clinging, "Your father and I have money, you," she pauses. "Have nothing. Your father had a job at…"

He hears more then one voice expel a loud moan, "Yes Mom I know, please," he says with a slight whine, "Not that story again."

He manages to move his legs and slowly he approaches the threshold to the kitchen. He stands in the doorway, the talking ceases as they all turn to look at him, "Coffee smells good," he mumbles the words. She fills a mug with coffee and hands it to him. There is one empty chair at the table, he fills it. Their chitchat continues as he pokes at the food that has been set before him. He cleverly and nonchalantly examines the people seated with him at the table.

Cathleen Casey, the last time he saw her they were 19 years old. He rubs his forehead trying to remember if they met at 14 or 15. He decides that it was 14. Her strawberry blonde hair has hints of gray throughout but her eyes are as green and sparkling as ever. The younger woman, who is defiantly named Nicole, _out of all the girls'_ _names to pick_, his chuckle goes unnoticed. Her hair is light brown with green eyes the same shade as her mothers. She resembles Cathy as she looked when they were in high school. Steven could be his clone, curls and all. Joseph has his hair color, his mothers' eyes and her nose, _the mutt of the family_. Bobby hides his laugh with a cough.

Lying on the table is the morning paper, the Times. He checks the date, it is Friday July 18th, the date is the same but the place, _where am I, what town? _

One by one the children leave the table, returning upstairs. When Cathy is on the phone he too returns upstairs to the one room he feels secure in, the bedroom.

He suddenly realizes that he is still wearing a pajama bottom and a tee shirt, he opens the bottom drawer of the dresser and he does indeed find a pair of jeans. He slips them on; retrieving his wallet he stuffs it in his back pocket, _my driver's license_. He opens the wallet, "Brooklyn, out of all the places to live in the world and I can't imagine someplace more exciting," he shrugs his shoulders as he returns the wallet to his back pocket. He then opens the closet for a shirt; a light blue polo shirt attracts his eye. He slips the shirt over his head and once again he tries to remember how and why he is here. He paces as he speaks, "I remember that last night I went out with Eames," he says aloud. "And."

"Alex Eames," he hears her say. He turns abruptly, eyes wide, "You went out with her, when?"

"The…." Though it has been twenty-eight years since he has seen this woman, he can see and sense a sad and hurtful expression on her face. He lies, "It was a dream," he walks across the room away from her menacing stare. "You, you know her?"

"Yes I do, why would you dream about her?

"I...I don't know, I'm sorry."

She crosses her arms, and then crosses the room toward the door, slamming it behind her. He sits on the edge of the bed, "Well that didn't go well at all." He remains on the bed, not knowing what to do and where to go. The door opens suddenly and it startles him, "Your car is blocking mine, would you move it please." Once again she slams the door, "Cathy!" he exclaims. He sits motionless waiting for her to return, she does. "What?" She says as she stands in the doorway with one hand on the doorknob the other on her hip, "What do you want Bobby?"

He stands, "I'm sorry, it was just a stupid dream," he reaches for her hand. Not even sure why Alex is a threat to her, he pulls her in for an embrace, "Forgive me please."

She raises her arms placing her hands on his shoulders, "No it's you who should forgive me, it was a long time ago and it doesn't matter anymore." He frowns as his head rests atop of hers, _it doesn't matter any more, what the hell does that_ _mean_? He then lowers his head and kisses her cheek, he smiles sweetly at her, _great now I'm more confused then ever_.

"You're car."

"Yeah, yeah," He follows her down the stairs and out the front door. He digs in his pocket for the keys to his car, no keys. "I'll be right back," he enters the house, "Keys, where do I put my keys."

"Hey Pops, what's the matter?" The teenager he has found out is named Joseph asks, "My keys, my car keys. Do you know where they are?"

"Sure," the young man points to the right, "Where they always are, in the key box."

"Thanks," keys in hand he once again exits the house. He stands on the walkway for a moment; in the half circle driveway are three vehicles, his Mustang, his smiles at that sight. A dodge Grand Caravan, where he finds Cathy in the driver's seat and the car that he has to move a BMW 3 series sedan, _Cool_, he smirks.

He puts the car in reverse and she waves to him as she turns the car into the street, heading south. He remains in the car, _nice house_. He smiles at the landscaping and the flowers and plants that line the edge of the property. "Well at least I still have my Mustang," he sits back in the seat. "Mustang, car….car….Lewis….Lewis!" He puts the car in reverse again then realizes he has no shoes on, "Shit!"

Joseph watches him ascend the stairs, shaking his head, Bobby hears him say, "What the hell."

Bobby nods his head, "What the hell is right, kid." He finds a pair of Nike's and slips them on, not even considering putting on socks. As he reaches the top of the stairs he can see Joseph step back and away from the stairs. Bobby watches him as he walks down the hall back toward the kitchen.

He returns downstairs and positions himself near the kitchen door, listening. He takes quick glances toward the kitchen and he can see that all three kids have returned. They are once again seated at the table, reading different sections of the paper.

Joseph grabs for the last remaining donut in the Entenmanns box. "What the hell is wrong with the ole man," he says then takes a large bite of the chocolate frosted donut. He straddles the chair leaning forward to take a napkin from the holder.

Steven lowers the paper. "He's acting more and more like Grandma everyday."

Joseph laughs and almost spits out the donut that is in his mouth, Nicole lowers her paper. "He's too old to develop symptoms of schizophrenia not to mention the fact that, that was a very insensitive thing to say Steven."

Steven grabs the edges of his paper, "First of all Nicole we know that, second if he was here he'd probably laugh."

Steven is right, Bobby stifles the laugh he feels.

"Besides it's not as if she is Mom of the year, after the crap that she has put him through," Steven says.

"That's between her and Dad, that has nothing to do with you."

"I'm not sure I agree with you Nicole, don't get me wrong she's my Grandma and I love her, but sometimes I don't like her." Bobby hears a chair being pushed back he hustles down the hall and out the front door.

Within minutes he is on the other side of town, "What if Lewis isn't Lewis," he says as he approaches a red light. "Of course he is I can't picture that guy being anything else." He looks up and to the right and he smiles with relief at the sign for his friends shop. Steering the car into the parking lot, he parks the car, away from the others in the lot. He expels a long breath as he turns off the ignition.

"Hey Bobby," he turns his head to the left when he hears his name. He opens the door then exits the vehicle. "Hey Lewis, I….how are you?"

Lewis turns his hands over and over into a rag, trying it seems to remove thirty years of grease from them. He holds out his hand, "Good, long time no see, what's up?"

"I….can we talk for a minute," he scans the area not able to make eye contact with his friend. "Somewhere quiet," he says ominously.

Lewis steps back nodding his head, he hesitates before he answers, "Yeah, yeah sure."

**TBC**

**A/N: If anyone has noticed that all his TZ kids have the same names as mine. Also Bobby with a daughter named Nicole, talk about freaky.**

**Later….The Mominator **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Bobby follows Lewis through the parking lot and into the office that resembles every car shop and garage in the country. Dirty floors and walls and a desk filled with papers. As Lewis closes the door, the papers flutter on the desk. Bobby sits immediately then Lewis follows, he leans forward. "What's up?" Lewis asks then notices the look of dread on his friends face. "Are you alright?"

Bobby nods his head, "Yeah, yeah I," he leans forward in the chair resting his arms on the cluttered desk. "I need to ask you some, ah," he swallows hard, "Questions."

"Ok," Lewis shrugs his shoulders, "Sure."

"You know someone by the name of Alex Eames?"

"Wow," Lewis smiles, "That is a name from the past."

"So you met her, when?" He rubs his forehead, "Wh….why?"

Lewis frowns, "You had an affair with her."

His eyes widen twice there normal size, he then stands and the sudden movement causes a few pieces of paper to fall to the floor, "I cheated…."

Lewis interjects, "No, it was when you guys were separated." Lewis notices the frown, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I….it may be the medication….Sam prescribed something…. I fell yesterday," he lies. "And hit my head. I'm having some trouble remembering things."

"Have you talked to a doctor or Cathy about this, I mean about hitting your head and not remembering. I know I'm not a Doctor but that sounds serious."

"No, not yet, I….I don't want to scare her," he pauses, "When were we separated?"

Lewis rolls the chair back, "Bobby you're scar…."

"Lewis I just need to know," he says sharply. "Just answer me." Lewis hesitates, "Come on man," Bobby pleads.

Lewis exhales, "Ah, let's see," he sits back in the chair, "It was about six years ago."

"Six years ago, when? I mean where did I meet her?" Bobby notices the apprehension on his friends face, "Lewis, please just tell me and I promise I'll see a doctor this afternoon, I just have to know….now, please."

"Ok, it was when you were at the hospital."

"Hospital, what hospital?"

"St. John's."

"Was I a patient?"

"No you worked there."

"Worked there," Bobby lowers his head as visions of many different occupations filter through his mind, "As what? The janitor?"

Lewis expels a nervous chuckle, "No you were the head of….or the chief of the Psychology department." Lewis continues unaware that Bobby's face has turned ashen, "It was when that Doctor, damn what the hell was his name," Lewis snaps his fingers. "Ah Schroeder, was murdered and Alex was the detective that was assigned to the case. Her husband had died about a year or two before and...." Lewis can see the worry on his face, "Alright I'll tell you what you told me, ok."

Bobby nods, "Please," he says as he sits back in the chair.

"You worked really hard to get ahead in that hospital and three years prior you were made the boss. You would work 24 7 and when you would go home all you and Cathy did was fight, so you left. About a month later, you started seeing Alex and then Cathy started to date some guy. You were jealous of him, she was jealous of Alex, and then suddenly you guys were back together. You left the hospital and now you are in private practice."

"So, I was separated when we started seeing each other?"

"Yeah," Lewis says, Bobby exhales with relief. "What were you thinking? That you turned into your ole man?" Bobby response is a nod.

An eerie silence befalls, Lewis picks up the receiver for the phone, "Who are you calling?" Bobby asks nervously.

"Cathy," Bobby reaches across the desk grabbing the receiver, removing it from his hand. "Don't…." he replaces the receiver on the cradle. "Bobby…."

Bobby removes his cell phone from his pocket, "I'll call Sam now, ok."

"Ok," Lewis says as he nods his head. He watches with intent as Bobby pushes the buttons on his phone, he clears his throat as the phone rings, _at the tone the time will be 12 45_, "Good afternoon this is Robert Goren," he pauses as he sits down. "I'm feeling a bit disoriented," he pauses again. "The doctor told me that I might have a reaction to the medication he prescribed and." He again pauses. "Yes that's how I feel. Should I stop taking it?" Once again, he pauses; "Yes, I can be there in about twenty minutes, thank you."

_Yeah call a doctor, they'll put me in a nut house….nut house, Mom, _he rubs his eyes. _Why is she still the same?_ He looks up and the worried expression on Lewis' face has faded. "Bobby do you want me to drive you?" He asks with absolute concern in his voice.

"No, its cool," he replaces the cell phone in his pocket, "I have my phone, if I need you, I'll call, don't worry I'll be alright." Lewis stands and after a quick hug then a hand shake, Bobby is out the door. The guilt that he felt before has been lifted. He walks through the lot looking for his Mustang, a momentarily lapse of memory that he drove here in a BMW. He scratches his head, sheepishly turning his head to see if anyone had noticed his blunder, he smirks, "There's no one here."

He exits the lot making a left, when he should have made a right, his destination, his apartment. Less than twenty minutes later he approaches his apartment building. "Who the hell parked in my spot? They….shit." He removes his wallet from his back pocket. "What the hell is that address?" After a quick glance at the street name, he tosses the wallet onto the dashboard. He puts the car in reverse, "This is a new car, it still has that new car smell." He checks the odometer, "Seven hundred and eighteen miles." He steers the car into traffic heading back to the affluent neighborhood. His attention is more astute as he drives through the Clinton Hill neighborhood. Passing houses that he could only afford in his dreams, "This is nice, this isn't bad at all but it's time to wake up."

He steers the car into the driveway, once again he surveys the property, "Yes I have to admit that I like this, but." He rings the doorbell, no answer, "Thank God for that." He enters the house, returning the keys to the key box that is set on the wall next to the front door.

Having only seen the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living and dining rooms he decides to investigate further. Opening the first door on the first floor he finds a room slightly in disarray with a large screen TV, bookcases filled with video games and in the corner a Wurlitzer jukebox. "Family room I suppose," he closes the door. Ten feet down the hall he comes upon another closed door. He opens it and he views a darkened room; he fumbles on the wall for the light switch. Flipping the switch his eyes take in a large room that years ago people would call a den.

He stands in the doorway, surveying the area. Two walls are lined with selves, on those selves' books. He glances at the titles, "These are my books," he states firmly. He examines the rest of the room, positioned in the corner is a large desk, which looks out onto a leather couch, "Private practice, here?" He circles the room reading the numerous plaques and certificates that line the walls. He chuckles softly as he pulls out the chair that is behind the desk, "Maybe this is my life and that other one is the dream," he sits back in the large leather chair. "Man this is one comfortable chair," he props his feet up on the desk. "Now all I need is a cigar," he starts to laugh as he notices the box of Cubans on the desk. He lights up the aromatic cigar and sits back. "Is this the life I really wanted and....it is nice but something is missing. Yeah the blood and the heartache of watching people deal with members of their families being victimized. Why would anyone miss that?" He closes his eyes as he puffs on the expensive cigar.

He hears the front door close, "Bobby?"

"Yeah," he says nervously, feeling as if he is doing something wrong, he stands.

She pushes the door open, "No golf today?" he only nods. "I picked up steaks for tonight."

"That's fine."

She crosses her arms, "You forgot, didn't you?"

_Yeah I forgot all right, I have forgotten the last twenty years of my life with you. _"Ah," he snaps his fingers. "Oh yeah the….Nicoles' new boyfriend is coming for dinner." He crosses his arms and a smug smile appears on his face, it fades quickly. _This is going to be a very interesting meal that's for sure. What if he asks me personal questions, I won't know the answers. _He turns away from her taking a few steps toward the desk_. So Mr., I mean Doctor Goren what was Nicole like as a baby? What was she like as a baby? I have no freaking clue, ask her mother. Interesting? Shit yeah, Nightmare? Holy Christ, I have to get out of this._

**TBC**

**A/N: Poor confused Bobby, he likes it, he doesn't like it. **

**Yes he does indeed have to get out of this.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: In the beginning of this chapter, the two worlds are coming together in Bobby's mind. The bold italic sentences are the Detective Bobby Goren world in the hospital. **

**Bobby is only able to respond in the OTHER world, why you ask. Because it's my story and I say so, besides it's JUST A STORY. **

**If you are familiar with TZ, do I need to explain? If you are not familiar with TZ (and you are still reading this, THANK YOU) this is definitely something that would happen. Hope you enjoy. **

**Chapter Five**

I have never done anything like this before. **Please** read the author's note above or you might not understand what's happening.

******************************

"**_What's happening?" The voice is familiar but seems far away._**

"**_You'll have to leave the room," a strange female voice says commanding. _**

**_"Oh my God," he feels a hand on his arm, "Is he having a heart attack?" The recognizable female voice exclaims. No one answers her question._**

"Bobby, what's the matter?" Cathy asks with concern, noticing his trembling hands.

He rubs the sweat from his forehead, "I….I just don't feel, I," he sucks in a lung full of air.

"You felt well enough to smoke a cigar."

"Mistake, that was a mistake, I thought it would relax me but it made me feel worse." His body falls to the floor.

"**_Please," the strange female voice pleads. _**

"**_No I want to…." the familiar voice states sternly._**

"**_We'll take care of him," the stranger says with compassion. "Now please."_**

"_**Ok, ok….you better take good care of him."**_

"**_Nurse Jenkins, what's happening?"_**

"**_He started trembling and his breathing has become labored." He feels a cloth on his forehead and he feels pressure on his chest. Silence for a few minutes, "His heart rate is decreasing….the beat is steady. From the look of it Nurse I'd say he had an anxiety attack." _**

"**_An anxiety attack, in this state?" she asks surprisingly._**

"**_Whatever is going on in his head is coming to the surface." He feels a prick on his arm._**

"**_Then why doesn't he wake up?"_**

"Mom, what happened?"

"Anxiety attack Nicole, he's had another anxiety attack," he feels a hand on his arm.

"I don't think those pills are working," Nicole says as she kneels next to him.

"If he's even taking them, Bobby can you hear me?"

"Mom should I call 911?"

They look down at him as his eyes are coming into focus, "Bobby," he manages to nod his head. "It's not necessary but he…."

"I'm alright," he says as the two women help him to sit up. She caresses his cheek, the color is returning, he notices the concerned look on her face. "Nicole, call Doctor Ryan." He reaches for the young woman and gets a hold of her wrist, "No, Nicole. I already saw the Doctor this afternoon." He releases his hold, "I….he said to just try and relax this afternoon." _Man you're getting really good at lying._

He is able to stand on his own, "Bobby you should go lie down," she checks the time. "It's only 3 o'clock and a few hours sleep before dinner will do you good." He nods his head in agreement, Cathy continues, "Nicole, you had better call Jeremy, we have to cancel tonight."

Without hesitation the young women answers her mother, "Sure Mom, sure." He expels a sigh. _That worked, extreme but what the hell. _He suppresses the smile he feels. "Go on," she pats his back. "Go on upstairs and take a nap."

_Take a nap; _he walks slow but steady across the room._ I haven't taken a nap in_….as he reaches the threshold he feels her eyes burning into the back of his head. "Maybe you," she swallows hard trying to ease slowly into what she is thinking. "You should see Liz, Bobby."

He turns abruptly and she steps back, lowering her head. "Liz as in Elizabeth Olivet," he states. She only nods not able to meet his eyes, "Lewis called you," he takes a few steps closer. "What did he say?"

She looks up into his eyes, he can see the concern on her face, "That.... that you went to see him and that, Bobby…." She reaches for the phone on the desk. "I'm going to call Liz." He grabs the phone from her hands. "No don't, please. I…"

"You've been acting strange all day, I saw you this morning, looking over the kids as if you never saw them before."

"No that's not true, I was just a little disoriented this morning and now…."

"And now….what? We are having a simple conversation about Nicole and her boyfriend and you have an anxiety attack. I realize she's your only daughter Bobby but…." He takes her hand in his, "I already called Sam, didn't Lewis tell you that?" she nods. "He told me to stop taking the pills. Since I am due for a complete physical. I have an appointment scheduled for next week." _Quick thinking Goren very_ _quick,_ he places his arm around her shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll be fine." They walk across the room, side by side. She leaves him at the foot of the stairs, "Please try to relax," she says. A quick peck on her cheek, "I will."

He slips off the Nikes' and lies down on the king sized bed; he places his hands behind his head. Thoughts of how to get out of this situation are _not _coming through. "If Sam is Sam maybe he could….he could what? Understand this, I don't understand this." Darkness falls as his eyes close. Sleep is soon after.

He opens his eyes not to darkness but sunshine; someone is tapping him on his arm. He focuses in on the face, "Cathy." He says her name aloud. For an instant he is grateful to be here, but that feeling fades quickly.

"I've made an appointment for you, Sam has an opening and he wants to see you now," she emphasizes the word. "Not like the imaginative time you told me about." He stares at her, _think man, come on think of_ _a way out of this_. The sound of his name breaks his concentration. "Bobby promise me, you will do what Sam says," she lowers her head. "Even if he tells you that you should…."

"Should what? See Liz, he won't. I'm perfectly rational."

"I didn't say you weren't rational, but…."

"I promise," he caresses her cheek. "I'll do whatever Sam says." He sits up in the bed then removes the quilt that is over him, "I want to take a shower first."

The warm water of the pulsating jets feels soothing on his tired muscles. _This really is not a bad life, why am I fighting it so much_. His thoughts are disturbed by someone calling his name, "Bobby, are you alright?"

He turns off the shower, "Yes, I'm fine, be right out."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he says with exasperation, then bites his lip, "Sorry," he whispers the word. He listens; the only sound is that of the door closing.

He towels off then combs through his hair. He stares at the razor and decides not to shave. He finds a black pair of jeans and a blue and white stripped polo shirt. He slips it over his head then glances at his look in the mirror. _I'm gonna have to buy myself a few of these_. He once again finds the pair of Nikes' but this time he remembers the socks. He finds her at the foot of the stairs, pacing. She stops when she hears him. "Ready?" she asks, he nods.

He opens the key box and reaches for his car keys, "Oh no," she grabs his arm. "I'll drive."

"I am able to drive myself."

"I'd feel better and I think it would be safer for me to drive."

"Alright," he holds his hands up in defeat.

Minutes later they are on their way uptown. He keeps his focus out the side window but he can feel her taking quick glances at him throughout the ride. Continuing to gaze out the window he says, "You had better keep your eyes on the road and not me." He turns his head gradually to face her.

"I….I'm not doing that."

He nods his head slowly, "Oh yes you are, why? What are you afraid of huh? Afraid I might do something," he smiles; she finds no humor in the statement. She foolishly keeps her focus on him and not the road, "Red light," he exclaims as he points. She slams on the brakes, they bolt forward. "I'm not afraid, I'm worried about you."

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I just don't think that there is anything to worry about," he takes her hand. "Alright, don't worry, I'm fine. Everything will be fine." He releases his hold as the light turns green and they continue their journey. _Keep saying it Goren and maybe it will come true_.

**The Office of Sam Ryan**

He tries to sit still however it is impossible, he fidgets in the seat like a five-year-old waiting to see Santa Claus. The excitement is there along with the fear. Her hand pats his arm, she leans closer, "Bobby," she whispers his name softly. He just nods, "Why are you so nervous?"

He smiles at her as he shakes his head then shrugs his shoulders. _Why am I so nervous she asks, let's see if I can recap the events of yesterday. _He can sense her stare as he exhales. He feels the onset of another attack_, Shit I have to get out of here._ He suddenly stands, "I….I have to go to the bathroom." He is out of the reception area before she can acknowledge his comment.

A few long strides down the hall and he comes upon the elevator. He stands pressed up against the wall; his forehead is beading with sweat. He focuses on his breathing. The attack subsides before it goes full force. "I have to go," he says aloud then scans the area, thankful that no one heard him talking to himself. _Where_ _the hell am I going to go?_ _I can't go home but I_…. a grin like that of a Cheshire cat appears on his face. He walks across the hall and into the open elevator after a woman and her child. A short ride and the doors to the elevator open on the first floor. He gestures for the mother and son to go first. He walks out into the sidewalk. Lifting his arm in the air, he hails a cab, "Where to?" The driver asks.

"One police plaza," Bobby says as he closes the door. Traffic is light, he is thankful for that. He maintains a conversation with the driver to keep his mind occupied with inane matters. The ride across the bridge and into Manhattan is less then thirty minutes.

His heart does start to race a bit as he stands in front of the building that is in his memory and a career that is in his soul. Men and women pass by, he wants to greet them, he knows who they are, they see a stranger. Step by step he makes his way through the doors and into the building that is, yes it is…. his home away from home. What exactly he's hoping to find here? He's not sure.

**I'm going to end it here.**

A/N: In the year 1999, I contracted streptococcal pneumonia. To make it easier for me to fight the infection I was put into an induced coma, though I do not remember if I ever heard anyone talking to me, I had some memories of dreams that I thought were real.

**Later **

**The Mominator**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

He is asked by the guard on duty for his credentials, and without hesitation he presents them to Chuck. He receives a pass and stops himself from saying; 'thank you Chuck', he just nods his head. He walks through the lobby and finds himself behind a shorthaired, red head. _Wheeler_, he follows her into the elevator. He clears his throat before he speaks, "Good morning Detective." The pixie-faced police officer turns to him, "Good morning Sir." He had a smidgen of hope that she would recognize him, he conceals his disappointment. For a moment he contemplates returning downstairs but he has a fervent hope that Alex will know who he is, who he _really_ is. The door opens to the eleventh floor and he hestitates before exiting.

He walks, following Wheeler, down the hall. He once again hesitates before he makes the turn that will take him into the squad room. He takes a long cleansing breath then resumes his pace. He sees her, sitting at her desk, laptop open.

The chair that is next to _his_ desk is empty, he fills it. "Did you remember to get the lab…." She lifts her gaze away from the computer screen; her smile turns to a frown when she sees him sitting there. She closes the laptop, then leans forward. "Bobby, what are you doing here?"

He looks around the room, no one is curious as to his visit, "I needed to see you."

She pushes her chair away from the desk then stands, "Go to hell," she says as she passes him. "Why is she upset with me?" He whispers. He follows her with his eyes as she enters the visitors' room. Once again he scans the room; no one is disturbed by his presence.

He opens the door and she turns her back on him, "Alex, I'm not really sure what is going on; please I need to talk to you."

She slowly turns to face him, "What do you need to talk to me about, you have a wife, remember?"

"You know me, right?"

"Ah yeah," she shakes her head surprised at the question. "What's the matter with you?" she walks across the room slowly, eyeing him intently. He sits at the table, "I thought you would know who I am."

She frowns as a she watches him place his elbows on the table then intertwining his fingers as he presses his hands against his chin, "What are you bored with your wife and figure that we can pick up where we….you and the wife having problems again?" She asks sardonically.

He doesn't notice her tone as he lowers his arms and sits back in the chair, shaking his head, "No that's not it. I thought for sure that you would know who I am."

"Bobby what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," he makes a fist and hits the table. He turns to gaze at the people mulling around in the next room. He starts to name them. She watches and listens as he calls out their names. "You've never been up here," she says. "Have you been watching me?" She asks, he doesn't respond to the question he continues to name the men and women in the next room. He doesn't notice at first the look of fear on her face, she steps back away from the table, "How?" She points toward the glass door, "How do you know those people?"

He turns his head slowly to face her, "I've known most of them for about seven years, that's how."

"That's impossible," she mutters. Another step back she takes, "We….I haven't seen you in six years, why? Are you watching me?" She asks again as she slips her hand to her side, then raises it slowly.

"What are you doing? Looking for your piece?"

"What, no," she says unconvincing as she shakes her head.

He stands and she presses up against the wall. "Alex what's the matter?"

"You ask me," she puts her hand to her chest. "What's the matter?" He takes a step toward her. Alex holds up her hand, "Bobby, just leave, alright."

He takes another step, "You sound, don't be scared, I'm not gonna," another step.

"If you don't get out of here…."

"Why won't you listen to me, please?"

"Get out of here Bobby!" her voice is heard throughout the squad. He stands frozen surprised by her reaction, moments later the door opens and he turns to face Detective Jefferies and Logan. They grab his arms, securely, "Let go of me," he exclaims. The two men pull him from the room, he continues to struggle, "We were just talking. Tell them Alex," he pleads. She follows them from the room, "Don't hurt him I think maybe he's….I don't know what the hell is the matter with him," she says shaking her head in despair.

Wheeler asks, "Eames you know him?"

"Yes I knew him; I think he may have been watching me, without my knowledge."

"That's a scary thought," Ross says and Wheeler nods her head in agreement.

He calls to her, "Alex, no. That's not it. Please believe me, I thought for sure you would," he gazes around the room at the familiar faces. "That you all would know who I am." He continues to struggle and manages to get free, if only for a second. A force hits his head. He hears voices in the background as he falls to the floor, "Jefferies, what the hell did you do that for?" A female voice asks. He knows the voice is Alex's.

"He's nuts," Jefferies answers.

"Cuff him, Logan," he recognizes Ross's voice.

He wakes to a semi-darkened room and not a familiar one. He tries to sit up, his hands are secured, and a strap is across his chest and legs. "Shit, now what?" he scans the room as much as he can, he is only able to move his head lifting it slightly. One lonely little light is glowing near the doorway. There are bars on the windows and the door is closed, except for the bed that he is on, the room is empty. "Talk about over reacting," he chuckles softy. "This isn't the least bit funny. Yes it is," he nods his head. "Considering the fact that you are all alone in a room and you're talking to yourself. Damnit, I've been doing a lot of that lately," once again he chuckles. He takes to looking around the room again as he recalls the events of what occurred in the squad room. "She must have thought that I was following her and she was scared of me, ah man." He expels a long breath. He tries once again to move but it is as it was before, impossible. "Maybe this is where I've been the whole time," he shakes his head wanting to get that thought out of his mind. He calls out, "Get me out of here!" he lays his head down, "Somebody, anybody. Is anyone out there?"

"He's awake," he hears a strange voice slightly muffled from behind the closed door.

**I'm going to end it here. **

**Later….The Mominator**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

He hears the sound of a key turning in the door-lock; he stretches his neck to see who will enter the room. The door opens and a small twinge of fear filters through him. He has to squint as the light from the hallway shines brightly. Their form blocks the light as they enter the room and he can see two figures. From their shapes, he deduces that one is a man and one is a woman, however their faces are in the shadows. "You want to tell me what's going on," Bobby says excitedly.

"Come down or I'll sedate you again." The male figure says harshly, who Bobby assumes is a doctor.

"Sedate me," he tries to lift his head, "Again? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I see that you have no memory of the havoc you caused."

"Havoc," he lays his head down on the pillow chuckling softly. "You've got to be kidding me, havoc. I went to see my partner and her cop friends over reacted."

"That's not why you were sedated and that's not why you are strapped to the bed. You don't remember what you did, do you?"

He gazes around the room as he searches his mind for a memory, "No I don't remember. What?" He clears his throat, fearful yes but always curious. "What did I….what happened?"

"You were belligerent when I tried to speak to you; you became hostile and proceeded to destroy the examination room." The doctor takes a quick gaze at the man in the bed and a look of uncertainty is on his face, the doctor continues. "When we sent orderlies in to contain you, you dislocated a man's shoulder."

He scoffs, "I don't believe you."

"Still argumentative…."

"I'm not arguing with you," he says sharply. "It's just that I've never done anything like that before." The doctor takes a step back. "Why are you stepping back? I'm strapped…." He expels a long breath, "Forget it, I suppose it was inevitable that one day I would be in this situation."

"Inevitable? Why do you say that?"

"I'm the wha…." He shakes his head. "So the memory of Alex is real. I did go to see her."

The doctor nods his head, "She was surprised to see you. You," he coughs. "She has a feeling that you have been watching her and you frightened her a bit." The doctor notices his frown, as he mumbles, "Frightened her, I thought for sure that she would know me."

"She does know you. She told me that you had an affair with her six years ago and...."

"Fuck!" Bobby exclaims, he startles the doctor slightly, "I'm still here."

"Still here? Still where?"

"Here, I never had an affair with Alex Eames, we're partners. You know cops. My name is Robert Goren and I look the same, but everything else is….I am not a psychiatrist, I'm a cop." The doctor just smiles and offers a nod, "Your effort at humoring me is not working, I am totally rational," the doctor pats his arm, Bobby frowns, "I don't need that shit either."

He jots something on the paper that is attached to his clipboard, mouthing the words, "Delusional but rational at times." The doctor lifts his head to a sneer; he ignores it, "After speaking with your wife," Bobby interjects, "No! No wife, I'm not married." The doctor continues, "You have been since yesterday morning totally disoriented and absentminded. And you are still hostile."

"Hostile, my ass," He makes a fist and pulls up his arms; he can only lift them about an inch in the air. "Sorry, I'm sorry. If I agree with all you say will you take the straps off," he asks timidly.

"No," the doctor answers abruptly. He steps closer to the bed and Bobby can now see his features. Gray hair, blue piercing eyes and a weeks worth of beard. "I need more reassurance; please don't feel as if I'm persecuting you. It really is for your own good, can you understand that?"

At first he wants to answer sarcastically by saying, of course I understand I'm not an idiot, he nods his head slowly as he answers, "Yes I understand."

"Good, now tell me when you first realized that your wife was not your wife?"

"No that's not what I mean, she is my wife, I mean….I never married her. I don't remember….I never married anyone. My past," he unconsciously tries to sit up, "Damn, maybe I do have a head injury." The gruffness that the doctor was portraying earlier has diminished. "Bobby," he says his name almost tenderly, "Don't be scared, talk to me I want to help."

"I….I woke up in a room that I have never seen. The house is large and beautiful and it is in an affluent part of town. I not only have a wife but three kids."

"All these people are strangers to you?"

"No, Cathy, I knew her when we were kids, but these kids I never saw them before." He expels a long breath. "Everyone I know seems to believe that I'm a doctor and some people who I have known for years don't know me at all." He takes a quick glance at the doctor and the women who has yet to speak. The doctor remains quiet and still. "You're not saying anything or even nodding," Bobby tries once again to sit up but cannot. "You've heard this before, right?"

"Sure," the doctor says quickly but Bobby can tell he is not sincere.

"So have I lost," he starts to laugh. "So I finally have lost my mind."

"There can be many, many reasons for this anomaly."

"Like what," he says with a defeatist tone. The door opens and two men pushing a stretcher appear in the room. "What's going on?"

"Tests, I have scheduled you for some tests."

"What sort of tests?"

"Well a CAT scan is first so we can see if there are any physical abnormalities."

He swallows hard, "And then."

"We will have to…." The doctor places his hand on his arm. "We'll get to the bottom on this, Bobby. Please, you have to be patient." Bobby smiles at the sound of confidence in the doctors' voice.

**I'm going to end it here.**

**Later....The Mominator**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

As the orderlies remove him from the bed and unto the stretcher, his mind starts to wander. _Mental illness it is in my genes could all the past, the past that I know just be in my mind_. The vividness of the situations and the memories are extraordinary. Some of the odder cases and characters come to mind. _Shit what a group of whackos Alex and I have encountered over the past eight_ _years_. _That fellow, _whose name escapes him_, donated his body parts in the hope that people, people he felt deserved to live, fulfill their dreams. Nicole? What about Nicole Wallace, was she even real? _

He shutters from the thought that all he remembers may be just a delusion. The panic he feels inside is not coming to the surface, he repeats to himself, _stay calm, do what ever they ask. _He shakes his head back to reality as they again position straps around his body. "Why? I'm not going to do anything." He says with a shaky voice. No one answers him, the two men continue with their task. He lifts his head in an effort to find the doctor, _he's gone_.

Across the room and out the door, he keeps his eyes focused on the lights on the ceiling, he finds himself counting them. He counts up to thirty-two then he notices a woman in the hall who reminds him of Cathy. He smiles at the thought of her. As a teenager, he did indeed love this woman, but at the age of nineteen, he as always, pushed her out of the madness that is his life.

"Bobby," a hand pats his arm.

"Huh, I mean yeah," his eyes focus on a young women, an attractive young women, with shoulder length brown hair, eyes to match, and a smile that is warm and caring. He feels a little more at ease.

"You have to lie as still as possible, do not move your head," she says firmly but softly.

He nods, "Sure." The machine starts up and he slides into the chamber, _Just stay still and calm, no matter what happens, you have to be calm. _He repeats this to himself. The buzzing noise and the light cause him to close his eyes.

Once again, his mind begins to wander. He smiles thinking of Alex; he had, for a while, pushed out the memory of the look on his partners face. _She was truly in fear of me. She said watching but she was thinking stalking. After all that we have been through, and now she doesn't trust me. I have to change that. Yeah right….how?_

The machine is turned off and he slides forward. He has been removed from the table and once again is moved onto a stretcher. When they ask him to move, he moves. _I have to get out of here, I don't belong here. There is nothing wrong with me_. His keen analytical mind starts to develop a plan. At first, he thinks _when they place me on the bed, break away and run_. He nods but then a tiny dose of reality comes to be, _first I am in a hospital gown_. _Man I'd be a sight running down the hall with my butt hanging out. _He chuckles so lightly that no one hears._ Second,_ _if they catch me they will once again sedate me and strap me down_. "Bobby are you alright?" the young technician inquires. He forces a smile, "Yes." He goes back to his original idea of remaining calm, doing what he is told, _don't argue with them._ _Besides _he smiles, _I am here for observation_. The stretcher hits the door and it swings open. _Three days, I can behave myself for three days and then I can leave_…._and go where_? He sighs ever so softly. _Back to that house, that strange beautiful house with the_ _swimming pool, the three-car garage and a family_. He is once again placed on the bed, no straps this time. He has to smile at that. _Now what is so bad about a beautiful house with a swimming pool and a three-car garage, anyway? _He asks himself_, it does sound wonderful but….but what? Something is missing from all that, _"Yeah something is missing alright, me."

The time between when he is returned to his room and when the doctor once again enters seems like a flash. "There are no physical abnormalities in your brain," he states firmly. Bobby smiles at first, "However," the doctor says as he slides a chair closer to the bed. "However?" Bobby questions the word. "Don't say it, I know," he turns his head away, "If it's not physical it's mental."

"Bobby," he sets his clipboard on the bed. "People have break downs…."

"I didn't have a break down," he exclaims, ignoring his previous thoughts of remaining calm. The doctor sits back in the chair as he raises his hands in a defensive mode, "Calm down."

"I'm calm," he shouts. "Sorry, I'm sorry but I'm getting pissed off at....shit....never mind."

"Bobby," the doctor speaks his name softly, "I'm here to help."

"Sleep, I need to get some sleep," he turns his head away. The doctor once again speaks his name; Bobby keeps his focus on the bars across the window. The doctor lightly pats his arm, "I'll be back later."

He closes his eyes, "I've lost my mind, I really have. Everyone said that one day it would happen and it has," he rubs his eyes. "NO!" he exclaims as he sits up in bed, "I'm thinking too rationally." He turns his head to the sound of footsteps.

"I don't want to sedate you again." The doctor, whose name he can't recall says. A barrage of names filters through his mind, _Mason, Miller….no it's Monroe_. "Is that your cure, to sedate people? To make them totally oblivious to what is happening to them." He lies down on the bed, pulling up the paper-thin sheet. "How am I ever going to be cured if I'm asleep all the time?"

The doctor crosses his arms as he nods his head, "That is very rational thinking." He uncrosses his arms and takes a step forward, "Now…."

Bobby holds up his hand, "No, not now. I don't want to talk to you."

The doctor, wanting to gain his confidence and trust, consents to his patient's wishes, for now, "Get some rest and we'll talk later." Bobby neither nods nor speaks as the doctor turns then exits the room.

_You said it Goren, you said cured. Admit it; you've lost your mind._ Turning on his side, he keeps his focus on the window hoping that something, anything will pass by to give him something to look at besides the bars. Each time a thought of his current situation enters his mind; he shakes the thought away, focusing more on memories, old memories of his past. "Unfortunately," he says aloud, "Most of those memories suck." A bird does fly by the window only to return moments later, "Wonder if it's the same bird." He chuckles softly. "Well some of them were good," His uncle, the one who taught him how to perform magic. Many a time he wished he could find a way to disappear. His job, "Sometimes it is hard seeing all that misery, but admit it, you love it." Not just discovering the who, but the why, why people do what they do, that has always fascinated him. Why does one person resort to murder while another in the same situation does not? "A psychiatrist does that also, that's not a bad career choice, but it's not the same. The mystery is the challenge, the challenge that you love. I never thought of myself as anything but a cop and I'm damn good at it," he states firmly. "No one, not even your fellow cops could deny you that honor." He rolls onto his back, rubbing his tired eyes, closing them, soon after he is asleep.

He opens his eyes and sees an unexpected familiar sight. _Why is she_ _here?_ He opens his mouth to speak but only a whisper is heard, "I'm sorry," he says as she leans closer, "Bobby you're awake." She says excitedly.

**I'm going to end it here.**

**Oh BTW----Is it confusing? I hope so. Little snicker.**

**Later....The Mominator**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry, if anyone cares, LOL----for the long delay in my updates but I have had a life changing experience this past week, my daughter has officially turned into an adult, she's 18. AHhhhhh, that's me screaming. **

**This Chapter is dedicated to cifan, judeey, bammi, Ruby Rosetta Red, rindy713, chlark4 and DejaBlue1972.**** Thanks for sticking with me throughout and for the feedback, once again thanks to you all.**

**Oh, one more thing a big Happy Birthday wish to Cary Grant----Yes I realize he is no longer with us, what a shame. **

**Ok ready for the story, its below. **

**Chapter Nine**

He lifts his head every so slightly, "I didn't mean to scare you. I wasn't watching you. You have to believe me; I was just trying to…." He drops his head onto the pillow. "Shit I don't know….I'm having some trouble remembering things." He notices her frown, "You don't believe me do you?"

"I'm not sure," she crosses her arms. "Considering I don't know what the hell you're talking about." This time she notices the frown on his face. _Shit now what_? He thinks as he rubs his eyes with his left hand, failing to notice the IV drip attached to his right hand. _I can't take__much more of this_. He turns his gaze away from her and scans his surroundings, "The bars on the windows are gone," he whispers. "When?" he clears his throat, "When did they move me to another room? If you had something to do with it, thanks."

"Bobby," she says his name softly as she pats his arm. "You've been in the same room since you got here."

"Don't try to humor me, the bars are gone," he points toward the window. "I know how crazy," he chuckles. "I've finally admitted it to myself." He says shaking his head in disgust. "I know how crazy I must have seemed to you. I was hoping that you would know who I was," he tries to sit up, and to his surprise he finds that he is too weak. "What the hell?"

She places her hand on his shoulder, "Lay still and take is easy."

"Shit, why did he sedate me again? What?" He looks to her and she can see the fear in his face. "What did I do this time?" She moves back a step and takes a hold of the arms of the lonely chair in the room, shaking her head. "Tell me," he says commanding. "What ever it was, I need to know."

She slides the chair closer to the bed, "Alright Goren stop fooling around. It's not funny." She looks up at her partner and spies a smile on his face a mile wide, "Goren, you called me Goren."

"Ah yeah, that's your name," she leans forward, "You know that right?" She asks timidly.

"Thank….we work together, right?"

She hides the fear she feels inside and sits up straight, nodding her head, "Yes….the doctor said that your memory may be a little fuzzy."

"No my memory is as clear as a bell. I'm back."

"Back, back where?" she clears her throat. "Where were you?"

"In the twilight zone," he laughs aloud. (Sorry I couldn't resist)

"That's funny Bobby."

"Man, what a ride. Everything was so clear." They turn their head to the sound of the door opening.

"Ah, you're awake; I'm Doctor Hawkins, Roger Hawkins."

_Roger, I've heard that name before, _Bobby thinks then asks_, _"How was your golf game?"

Frowning at first the doctor wonders if that was his attempt at humor or the fact that he did indeed play golf yesterday. The doctor answers the question with a question, "How did you know I played golf yesterday?"

"I…." he remembers the conversation with Cathy about his golf game with a man by the name of Roger, _Can't tell him that_. "I, ah….I'm not sure."

"After a few days of rest, I will be signing the papers to have you released, no permanent damage."

"Damage?" he suddenly realizes that he has no clue as to why he is lying in this hospital bed. "You," he clears his throat. "You were anticipating that there would be damage, why?"

"You were poisoned, an overdose of Carbamazepine, in error your pharmacist had dispensed to you Tegretal, carbamazepine instead of Trental pentoxifylline. Taking the recommended dosage of the medication you thought to be trental caused you to have raised carbamazepine levels. In other words your phramasist poisoned you."

He frowns, "Carbamazepine? That's a anticonvulsant and mood stabilizing drug it can be used to treat epilepsy and bipolar disorder. It is also used to treat ADD, ADHD and schizophrenia, my Mom was given it at one time."

The doctor has to frown, "That's very impressive, why? Ah….You didn't realize that you were dispensed the wrong medication?"

"No, I've been so busy on the job that I never took the time to check it out, I mean Jesus Christ if you can't trust your own pharmaist, who can you trust."

"You've been in coma for two days." He flips thorugh the papers on his clip board. "You seem to be fully aware of your surroundings now, with no apparent permanent damage. I have scheduled you for some tests over the next few days," once again he flips through the papers on his clip board, "But I do not foresee anything out of the ordinary." He lowers his clip board. "Get some rest and I'll see you later."

Alex turns to watch him leave the room, "He's been here 36 out of the 48 hours that you have been here." She crosses her arms, "I like him, if I was ever, God forbid, ill I'd want that man for my doctor."

He smiles, "You've been here all that time?"

She returns the smile, "Yes I have, I couldn't, wouldn't leave you here alone."

"Thanks," he raises his arm and she takes a hold of his hand. Silence befalls them for a moment.

"So," Alex breaks the silence, fully aware as to why his doctor prescribed him trental. It has been proven useful as a treatment for erectile dysfunction, she decides to have a bit of fun with her partner. "Exactly why were you taking trental? You certainly don't have obstructed arteries in your limbs or vascular dementia."

He, knowing this woman very well can tell that she knows the reason, "I have a life you know," he says with a defensive tone.

"I know….so….who is she?"

"She….there's no she. It's just that well you know," she smiles at the red tone appearing on his face. "I am not going to talk about my sex life with you," he turns his head away from her gaze, "What little there is of it."

He can hear her laugh, she stands then pats his arm, "You and me both, partner." She pauses as she resumes her seat. "Where did you go, before you said that you were back."

He exhales, "To another world, another life." He tries once again to sit up, "I was married to my old girlfriend Cathy," he grins. "And we had three kids; we lived in a huge expensive house. Three cars in the driveway and…." He grins at her and she smiles, "And I was a psychiatrist."

"Sounds nice," she says.

"It was, but for some reason I spent most of the time trying to figure out how I got there and the rest of the time, trying to find a way back. You would think that I would want to stay there, but I didn't. I was shown what my life could have been….all I felt was a big hole in my soul, as if this life," he pats the bed. "Is the life that I am supposed to have, not that one. The one I could have had." He frowns, "Does that make any sense."

Her only response is a nod, she then asks, "Cathy? Was she the Cathy whose name escaped your lips the other night at the Yankee game? The woman that you were staring at?"

"Yeah, it was her. She wouldn't even recognize me." He pauses, "Jesus was it that obvious, I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, she was….I mean is very attractive."

"She didn't change much," he turns his gaze toward the window, "Hope she got all that she wanted out of life." He rubs his eyes with his left hand.

"You wonder, if you've been denied things….."

"No not denied things….do you ever think what your life would be like if you made other choices?"

"Sure," she sits back in the chair then crosses her legs, "Doesn't everyone?"

"I've been thinking a lot about that lately."

"I do too sometimes," she says with assurance. "If I chose another career I would never have married Joe maybe I would have married another man and had kids of my own. But then I think; I enjoy the adventure and the challenge of the job. We do good things for the people of this city." She shrugs her shoulders, "Just because we're not married and have no children doesn't mean that we have wasted our life away." She leans forward, "I'm happy with who I am and what I do."

"You're right," he says with assertiveness. "You're absolutely right."

"You dare to doubt me," she says with a grin.

"Never," he flashes a smile at her. "I like my life, I enjoy my job. I have a great partner, who puts up with me and good friends. That's not so bad, is it?"

"I don't think it's bad at all."

He chuckles softly. "Besides I can't picture myself being anything else but a cop, can you?"

She sits back in the chair, "Hmmm, let's see….a reporter. You know the kind that sticks their microphone into peoples faces and asks….." she notices the smirk on his face. "Face it Goren you have a tendency to ask very unusual questions."

"Takes them off guard and then you question them and they don't have time to think about a lie."

"Yeah that is pretty cool the way we do that." She stands then leans down, kissing his cheek. "Get well soon so we can get back to that. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go home and get some sleep."

"I wasn't going to say anything but…."

"If you value your life Goren you will remain quiet." She winks at him, then offers a little wave. "See you later." She opens the door, then turns back to face him. "Get some rest and don't ever do something like this to me again." She lets go of the door handle, "I realized something these past two days that I never wanted to admit to myself," she takes a few steps close to the bed. "I don't know how _my_ life would be without you in it and I don't want to know." She takes another couple of steps. "One more thing, I hope you include me as one of your good friends."

"You have a doubt about that?"

She shakes her head, "No not really just wanted to make sure." He raises his arm and takes a hold of her hand, lightly pulling her close to him; he kisses her cheek this time. "I owe you a lot Alex and I should have told you sooner how important you are to me."

She sniffles back a tear, "I'd better go," she points at him. "You need to get some rest. I'll be back later."

"Promise?"

"You have a doubt about that?"

A sweet smile crosses his face, "No not really just wanted to make sure."

"Oh shit, I forgot…." She lightly smacks her forehead.

"Forgot, what did you forget?"

"That there are a number of people hanging around downstairs. They don't know that you have woken up. I'll go get them," she pauses. Whispering, "Even Ross was worried about you." They exchange a smile then a laugh.

**I'm going to say farewell and many thanks to you all.**

**Later The Mominator, **

**Oh BTW the story is over.**


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